Written With the Hand of Mr Castle
by Cora Clavia
Summary: Once you read something, it can't be unread.  Caskett.
1. Chapter 1

**Written With the Hand of Mr. Castle**

**Summary:** Once you read something, it can't be unread. Kate accidentally reads what wasn't meant to be seen. Caskett, extended oneshot.  
**Rating:** Meh. K+ish at the very most.  
**Disclaimer:** I have nothing but an unhealthy love for the fictional character Richard Castle. I don't own him. I wish I did. Le sigh. No profit from this story, blah blah blah. You know the drill.

* * *

Kate's eyes opened slowly, heavily. She felt dizzy, not so much lightheaded as unbalanced. Groggy. Like she'd slept for a week covered in heavy quilts.

_What happened?_

Her memory started to come back in a blur of fractured images and sounds. The chase. The murderer clearing the fence in front of her. His jacket falling away, hitting the ground as he kept running. The abandoned office building he'd run into. So close. Following him, just on the edge of her sight. The pounding of footsteps on the pavement as she heard Castle and Esposito calling out, telling her to wait, they were coming. The sudden darkness of the old building. His face, taut with desperation. The pinpoint of metal in front of his hand. A deafening bang. Hot pain. Silence.

She only vaguely remembered a few things after that. Pain so intensely agonizing that nothing else registered. Voices calling her. Castle's face above her, tense with fear. Trying to tell him to go away, to let her breathe. Not being able to speak. Sirens, sounding warped and blurry, like they were underwater. Darkness blurring the edge of her eyes. Then blackness.

Looking around slowly, she discovered that she was, in fact, in a hospital room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound. Pale sunlight streamed in through the half-shut blinds, casting a soft glow over the blank walls. Lanie was dozed off in the chair next to her, but twitched awake, saw Kate watching her, and smiled in visible relief.

"Kate! Oh, thank God. You're awake." She handed Kate the big hospital sippy-cup of water, which Kate accepted gratefully. "You've been out for a while. We've been taking turns sitting with you."

Lanie quickly filled her in on the missing pieces. Seconds after she'd been shot, Castle and Esposito had gotten to the abandoned building, where Esposito managed a flying tackle to catch the murderer while Castle had run to her side, calling hysterically for help as he tried to stop the bleeding. The whole crew had trooped to the hospital and set up camp in the waiting room, ignoring the hospital staff telling them it would be a long wait. Kate smiled. Not surprising. Apparently even Alexis and Martha had come in and sat with them, so the whole troop was there when the doctor came out and said she was going to be all right. As gunshot wounds went, this one was thankfully not too serious.

"As soon as you were in post-op, we divided into shifts to make sure there'd be someone here whenever you woke up."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Even Castle took a turn. I saw him. He was just sitting here, staring at you with this haunted look on his face, scribbling away on some noteboook paper."

"He stayed with me?"

"We had to force him to finally go home. He hadn't left since they brought you. Writer boy does look damn fine scruffy, but he needed a shower."

Kate chuckled.

"You just get some rest, hon. We're all glad you're gonna be okay."

* * *

When she woke up later, the chair beside her bed was empty. She could hear Esposito standing outside talking quietly on his phone. _No, she's going to be fine. She's asleep right now._ She couldn't tell what time it was, but it looked like night or early morning.

Esposito poked his head in, smiled, checked that she was doing okay, and apologetically explained that he'd been called back to the precinct to talk to the investigating officers. She told him to go on, promising to call if she needed anything. He hurried out, promising to call Martha and see if she could come by if they were stuck at work for long.

The rest of the day passed quietly. Kate dozed in and out, catching scattered minutes of TV shows, waking once to listen dazedly as Martha treated her to a heartfelt reading of _Heat Wave_. That put her back to sleep fairly quickly.

* * *

She woke again to find herself alone. Apparently, Esposito's statement and report were taking a while. But though no one else came through the door, on the table beside her bed, there was now a piece of folded paper with _KB _neatly printed on it. Opening it, she recognized the handwriting, of course, though it was more uneven than normal. She read through the scrawling lines.

_Kate, this is one of the worst days of my life. I thought my life ended when I saw you there on the floor. All that blood. And you were so still. You're always moving, always busy, always in a whirl. But you weren't moving. And I thought you were gone. I thought I'd lost you. My heart stopped. I couldn't think. When they pulled you into the ambulance and I heard them say you weren't breathing, I felt sick. I wanted to die myself. I'm not religious, but I prayed. And I cried. And right now I'm still shaking, even with you right here beside me, these machines reassuring me every second that you're still breathing, still glowing, still beautiful. _

_Kate, I'm a selfish man and I don't treat you the way you deserve. But you are everything beautiful and noble and strong, and everything you do inspires me. I spend every moment of every day trying to figure out how to make you smile, and then when you do, it's like the whole sky opens up in sunlight and beams at me. And I wish it hadn't taken this terrible scare to make me realize just how much you mean to me, and just how much of my heart is yours. You're not mine. I know that. But I've been yours for longer than I even know. _

_I look at you right now, silent and still, all in white like some soft angel. You're beautiful. And so much more fragile than you should be. You're so delicate. My whole body aches for you. If I could take every thing that hurts you, everything that threatens you or gives you pain, I would suffer it in a moment, without complaint, if it meant I could see you smile every day for the rest of my life. _

_You have to get better. I would pour my life into you if I could. I would hold you close and kiss you awake and never, ever, ever let you go. My perfect Sleeping Beauty. I would battle a thousand dragons if one kiss could bring you back to me. And then kiss you a thousand more times just to be safe. _

_I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean for this to turn into a love letter. I just can't help myself._

_All my love – what a relief to say it, even if it's just here, where you'll never see it – Rick_

By the time she finished, her eyes were stinging, her hands trembling at she folded the letter, not realizing that Alexis Castle had just walked in.

"Hi Kate, Dad said you – Oh my God, Kate, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Her eyes blurring with tears, she just shook her head, putting a hand over her mouth, and finally she simply handed Alexis the letter. Confused, Alexis opened it, scanning it quickly. Her eyes got wide. "Oh, Kate. Did he leave this?"

"I don't know. It was there when I woke up."

Alexis stared at it, considering. "It must have been Gram."

"But it's your dad's handwriting."

Alexis thought for a moment before comprehension dawned. "He came straight here from the scene. He was writing when I stopped in earlier. He didn't have his computer. This must have been what he was writing. Gram must have found it."

"So it's real."

"He writes everything. It's how he organizes his thoughts." She looked down. "He never thought anyone would see this."

Kate shook her head. "I feel so terrible. I don't know what to do."

"Kate, you had to know he loves you. Everyone else knows."

"That's not true."

"Gram has already decided what she's singing at your wedding reception." Seeing Kate's shocked expression, Alexis smiled. "Don't worry. It's a very tasteful rendition of 'Wind Beneath My Wings.'"

"Well, that's something."

Alexis sat down, scootching her chair a little closer to the bed. "When you got shot, I was at school. My phone buzzed, but I was in class, so I didn't pick up. Then the principal came in and said Dad called the school and needed to talk to me right away. I was afraid it was Gram. But then Dad said it was you."

"I'm sorry, Lex."

"Kate, Dad was hysterical. He was crying. I could hardly understand him. He told me which hospital and I came right away. But I've never seen him so scared." Alexis stared at her, those big blue eyes so much like her father's. "He cares about you so much."

"Lexie? Sweetheart? Is she awake yet?"

Kate had only enough time to meet Alexis' eyes in panic, as the girl clasped her hand, before Castle appeared in the doorway, his tired face lighting up as he met her eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

His brow furrowed – he could see something was up – and then she saw his gaze fall to the letter on the table beside her. His face went pale, and he swallowed. "Oh, God. Kate, I – it's not – I can explain –"

* * *

**Author's Note:** SO MUCH LOVE for Castle. So. Much.

Chapter 2 on its way.


	2. Chapter 2

I appreciate the responses! It's nice to join a new fandom. Castle is a recent development in my life, and probably not a healthy one, but it's just so damn good that I can't stop watching it. This is a short chapter, for which I apologize, but I grade one more round of exams today and then will get to write afterwards, so be not afraid, more story will appear.

Onward: a brief chapter 2.

Previously: _His brow furrowed – he could see something was up – and then she saw his gaze fall to the letter on the table beside her. His face went pale, and he swallowed. "Oh, God. Kate, I – it's not – I can explain –"_

_

* * *

_There was a long moment of stunned silence, during which Alexis looked at her dad, looked back at Kate, and quietly picked up her bag and slipped out the door. This moment did not beg for an audience.

"Where did you even get that? It was in my jacket pocket, but when I got h-" his eyes flashed in realization, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "My well-meaning mother."

"That's what Alexis figured." Something clicked and whirred on one of the machines beside her, and a wave of medication hit her system like a wash of warm water. She took a deep breath. "Castle, it's okay."

"No, Beckett, please. I need to explain –"

Kate was still lucid, but her eyelids were starting to fall shut in spite of herself. Her whole body felt heavy with sleep. It was hard to focus. "Castle, I'm not trying to avoid this, but I think the morphine's kicking in again, and I really can't stay awake. Can we please talk about this later, when I can keep my eyes open?"

Her eyes were already half-shut, but she could see him smile gently, realizing she was just drugged up, not upset at him. "Of course. Didn't realize I was boring you, Detective."

She could see him standing, and just before her eyes closed completely, she reached weakly, failing miserably to reach his hand. "No. Stay." Her voice trailed off as she let out a long sigh and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

**Author's Note:** My most recent writing was for Stargate Atlantis. It's really nice to be back in an active fandom. Inspiration for this chapter goes to the mighty drug morphine. I still remember exactly how it felt when it hit me the day I got my wisdom teeth out. It really does just kind of WHOOOSH you into sleepy. I saw the IV start, felt it swamp me with Zzzzzzz, and told the oral surgeon "Whoa, this stuff is strong" before I passed out two seconds later, then woke up with four less teeth. Ah, memories.

Thanks for all the reviews!

Keep on truckin'.


	3. Chapter 3

Since chapter 2 was brief, chapter 3 is longer. Enjoy.

Previously: In which Castle appeared. It was awkward. Kate succumbed to the charms of morphine.

(This is prolly obvious, but the big chunk in italics is a flashback.)

* * *

**Chapter 3**

When she woke up, with no idea how long she'd been out, she looked around to find herself in the midst of a small jungle of tiger lilies, tulips, pansies, orchids, iris and daffodils, and Richard Castle sprawled awkwardly in the chair beside her bed, snoring gently.

It wasn't exactly that the letter had caught her completely off-guard. He was a writer; he wrote. It was his natural method of communication. But its language was the shocking part. He was a skilled writer. His literary language was slick, easy, and lithe. She knew his style well; his literary success was due to the easy read, not the sex scenes. Well, not _just_ the sex scenes.

This letter was different. It was simple. It didn't race forward. It wasn't a fast-paced narrative, with nimble verbs and action-based participial adjectives to keep the prose moving. It was a single moment. It was a huge burst of pure, raw, unadulterated, heartfelt emotion, crystallized in words. It was his way of blurting everything out. It was over the top in its sincerity. It was passion for no other purpose than sheer heartfelt love.

It was vulnerable, the way he was never vulnerable.

He shifted a little in his sleep – he looked exhausted – and let out a snort.

He was in love with her. To be honest, Kate wasn't as shocked as she should have been. She'd always known he had a thing for her. He'd never really been subtle about it, after all. How many times had he commented on her appearance, or simply done an unconscious round of elevator eyes?

But the letter, again, changed everything. It was no hinting of an adolescent crush, some mere appreciation of her body and enjoyment of her aptitude for matching him, parry for thrust, in bouts of stychomythia that would have left Benedick and Beatrice reeling. The letter was pure, raw, uncut. Undiluted. Simple.

Loving.

He let out another snuffling snort, and his eyes blinked open. Meeting her gaze, he smiled a little tentatively, running a hand through his hair, succeeding only in making it look exactly the same. "Hey. Sorry. Dozed off."

"That's fine." She glanced at the small shrine of flowers beside her. "I didn't realize I had my own greenhouse here. Where did these come from?"

"The daffodils and tulips are from your friends among the thin blue line. I got you these," he pointed to the iris-orchid-Queen-Anne's-Lace combination. "Mother figured I would forget, so she sent the tiger lilies. And Alexis didn't trust either of us, so the pansies are from her."

"They're all beautiful." She ran a gentle finger over the silky, pale pink orchid petals. Kate loved flowers; she just didn't have them around the house often. Flowers rarely meant happy occasions for police officers. And she was rarely home often enough, let alone did she remember, to water them properly.

But for just a second, she lingered on the orchid petals. The others were lovely – and who but Martha would send tiger lilies to a hospital patient? – but Castle's flowers were breathtaking. Tall, slender purple irises, delicate, pale pink orchids, and soft white clouds of Queen Anne's Lace. Perfect. Beautiful.

She looked up to see softness in his eyes. "They're so beautiful, Castle. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like them."

He sat back in the chair, thinking for a moment before he spoke again. "I do want to explain about the letter."

"I'm so sorry – I saw my initials on it, and I didn't stop to think – "

"It's not your fault," he assured her. "You had no reason to think otherwise. Please don't guilt yourself about it. This is all the work of my loving but meddlesome mother."

"Well, at least you know it was either completely innocent or completely well-meaning."

"True."

"It wasn't bad, or unpleasant. It was just kind of – unexpected."

"I was – kind of writing without thinking." He twisted his hands uncomfortably. "I didn't mean for anyone to see it. Least of all you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She took pity on him. He looked mortified. At least she wasn't alone in her embarrassment. "For what it's worth, it's beautifully written."

"I only use the good words for you," he said, giving her a sheepish smile.

They fell silent for a while, each lost in thought. Finally, he broke the silence.

"It really was the worst day." Seeing her look up, he continued. "When you were shot. I really meant that."

* * *

_She was too fast. He ran at breakneck speed, but she was still far and away ahead of him. "Beckett! Wait! We're coming!" he gasped. How did she run so fast in heels? Even Esposito was struggling to catch up._

_They raced behind her down the alley to the empty building the murderer had run into. She vanished inside, gun in hand. For a second, everything was silent._

_Then he heard the bang._

_He'd heard gunshots before but this one sent a chill down his spine. Esposito got to the door before him and he heard yelling – two male voices – and then "Castle! Call a bus!"_

_His heart raced as he got to the door of the building. Inside, Esposito was cuffing the guy. And Beckett was on the floor, motionless, in a pool of blood. It soaked her clothes and hair, smeared her face, and surrounded her chest with a deep crimson halo._

_Blood didn't splatter, didn't spurt. It just appeared. It welled up like some great fountain, like the gaping dark hole in her chest was brimming, and he needed to stop it but there was no off switch. Pressing his hands against it, he helplessly watched red flowing smoothly into the spaces between his fingers. Blood coated his hands, hot and slick, and he couldn't breathe, and his hands hurt because they were shaking but he was pressing them so hard against that hole in her chest that was just leaking so much and his hands were slipping and any other time she'd have slapped him for trying to feel her up but now she wasn't moving. It wasn't poetic. No eyelashes fluttering, no delicate hand squeezing his, no long shaky gasps. She just wasn't moving. Her eyes were closed._

_He tried to find a pulse, but his hands were shaking so hard he couldn't feel anything. Leaning over, he pressed his ear to his mouth. The faintest puff of air came out. He almost collapsed in relief. She was alive. Barely. But alive._

* * *

"I just – when I ran through that door and saw you on the floor, my heart stopped."

Kate looked down. She'd known the anguish of seeing another cop shot. Too many good officers did. It was sobering, something every member of the NYPD knew might happen but hoped wouldn't.

"I thought I might let Nikki get shot next book, you know? Give Rook a scare, help him realize the depth of his feelings. Keep the readers worried." He shook his head. "I didn't realize what it's really like."

"It's not glamorous."

"Yeah. I don't think I want to do it anymore." Castle stopped, his expression full of pain, and Kate realized suddenly what the rest of the sentence was. _I don't want to relive it._ He looked despondent.

"Castle, I'm going to be fine."

He let out a long breath. "I _know_ that. I just – you – you're a _rock_ to me. You're immovable. And then seeing you like that, on the floor, and in the ambulance – it shook me. It still terrifies me."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I came to one of your book signings." He blinked in disbelief. "Years ago. I did. I found out about it, and I stood in line for an hour before I could even see you. I had this whole big speech planned, about how your books had gotten me through my mom's death and you'd helped me realize that I wanted to be a cop. Then I got to the table, and you smiled at me, and I just –" she shook her head – "I didn't need to say anything. You smiled at me like you knew everything I wanted to say. And when you gave me back the book, you touched my hand. And you said 'thank you, Kate.' And – I just – I walked out of the bookstore like I was in the air. I felt happier that day than I'd felt since Mom's death."

"Wait – your hair was a lot longer then, right? And you were wearing something blue?" His eyes went wide. "I remember you."

"You're not serious."

"I am. I remember you." He sat up straighter, his eyes bright. "You walked up, this pretty girl in the middle of all the half-crazed people, and you looked so shy. But then you smiled, and I remember thinking you had the most beautiful smile. I asked my handlers afterward, but no one knew who you were."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I looked for you every time I did a book signing in New York after that. But I never saw you again. And then by the time we started working together, you looked different enough that I didn't recognize you."

Kate smiled softly. "You have to understand, that was one of the things that helped me come back to the world after Mom died. In a way, you brought me back to life. I always wished I could get a chance to thank you for that."

"And you never did?"

"Well, then I met you."

That got a laugh. His face broadened into a grin. "You've recovered enough to snark at me. I declare you officially on the mend."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Merry Christmas/Mele Kalikimaka/Crăniun fericit/Fröliche Weinachten! Big shoutout to you wonderful readers outside the US too. It's so cool to check story stats and see all these people from these amazing far-off places. Thanks you so much for reading! Please drop a line in your native tongue if you have the chance; I studied linguistics my last year at undergrad and would love to try reading your language (with the help of trusty online dictionaries, of course).

Flower language (which I looked up) – orchids are 'delicate beauty,' Queen Anne's Lace is 'femininity,' and irises are 'inspiration,' which I thought abundantly fitting for the muse herself.

Big internet hugs to you. Stay warm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She was released from the hospital soon enough, and Lanie was nice enough to take her home, under the strict understanding that she was to call _immediately_ if there was _anything_ she needed, wanted, or even thought would be mildly pleasant.

"Castle mentioned he'd stop by, throw out anything spoiled in the fridge. At least you won't have that to worry about."

"Good. That was nice of him." Very nice. He had been extremely nice the past few days, regardless of what she knew had to be an uncomfortable situation for him. And more than nice, he'd been surprisingly gentle. Aside from mild teasing, he hadn't bugged her.

Opening the door, she peered in, and her face broke into a smile. The apartment was immaculate. It had been cleaned and dusted, books stacked neatly, chairs straightened. The air held a slight hint of lemon, probably from dusting spray. A vase of purple irises sat on her coffee table, pink and yellow roses by the kitchen window, and, she discovered with a glance through her open bedroom door, pink and white orchids on her nightstand, beside a perfectly made bed with crisp hospital corners.

"Your place _never_ looks this good."

"Tell me about it."

Lanie bent to look at the irises. "Aren't these just beautiful? Your Writer-Boy does have good taste."

"They're nice." Kate smiled. He'd noticed she'd liked his flowers. He'd remembered.

"Can we just talk about the flowers he got you at the hospital?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Lanie, please. They were just orchids."

"There is no such thing as 'just' orchids. If he just wanted to get you something nice, he would've called for a dozen roses and been done in two minutes. He got you a gorgeous bouquet that he had to _pick out_. He purposely looked for something surprising. So don't give me 'just orchids.' Rick Castle spent time finding flowers that said _I love you_."

Kate smiled wryly. Actually, he'd written an entire letter that said the exact same thing. Maybe Lanie wasn't too far off. "Are you done, or should I start picking out linens and china patterns now?"

Lanie had wandered into the kitchen and was peering through the fridge and freezer, a self-satisfied grin on her face. "Judging by this little domestic oasis, I'd say he might have already done it. Check it out."

Kate looked in to discover fresh milk, juice, eggs, fruit and butter in the fridge, a small loaf of bread on the counter next to it, and chicken, vegetables, ice cream and mini cream puffs in her freezer. "Wow. I never have good food like this."

"Honey, will you please just admit that he's your husband? If you're going to be married, you know, you may as well have the fun of the honeymoon first."

* * *

Because he'd obviously gone to great lengths to arrange for her comfort, Kate found herself calling him after Lanie left. He picked up immediately. "Hi."

"Hey, thanks for cleaning up my place. It looks wonderful."

"You're welcome, though the maid did do most of the work."

"I don't have a maid."

"No. But I do."

"Well, thank you."

"Not a problem. I just figured it would be nice to come home to a clean apartment."

"And you even coordinated the flowers with my color scheme. Castle, you're a constant surprise."

"I do aim to please." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?"

"No, I'm fine. You set me up pretty well." She hesitated before continuing. "Actually, I'm not much of a cook, but would you like to come over for dinner? It was so nice of you to stock up my fridge. The least I can do is share."

"I was just about to ask if I could cook for you," he chuckled. "You beat me to the punch. I'll be right there."

* * *

"Can I help?"

"No thank you, Miss Beckett. The maestro needs space and freedom in which to work his magic." He brandished a spoon at her. "He respectfully requests that you relax, and if you wish, observe the magic."

"Well, who am I to question the maestro?" Kate settled in a chair beside her kitchen table. He had brought supplies, only some of which he had taken out for cooking. When she had tried to look through the rest, he had shooed her away and she had called him a mother hen. So now she settled contentedly and watched him defrost, spice, mix, boil and stir. "I almost never cook like this."

"Eh. I find it strangely soothing, actually." He poured something into the pan he was stirring.

"I used to," she agreed, "but usually by the time I get home, I'm so tired that even the microwave takes too much effort."

"I know how you feel. When Alexis was a baby, before she learned to sleep through the night, there were a few weeks when Meredith was gone and my diet consisted of cereal, yogurt and delivery."

She laughed and sniffed appreciatively. "It smells good. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"I will permit you to set the table, as long as you do not overextend or exhaust yourself in your weakened state." With a roll of her eyes, she complied.

* * *

Setting her napkin back on the table (her mother had drilled proper etiquette into her, including napkins on laps), Kate sighed. "That was delicious. Thank you, Castle."

"You're more than welcome." She reached for her plate, but he easily swooped in and removed it before she could. "No. You sit. I labor."

With a sigh, but secretly pleased, Kate surrendered her plate and cutlery, watching as he quickly cleared the table and filled her dishwasher. "So domestic."

"The ladies love it," he grinned as he set a few stubborn pans to soak.

Kate had been under the impression that he would be leaving after finishing up with the dishes, but after he finished with the sink – steadfastly refusing her offers to help – he made no move to leave, instead fussing with her freezer, making everything was tidy, and removing a blender and something he wouldn't show her from his sack of dinner supplies.

She stopped for a second. "You're not going to leave, are you." It wasn't really a question, but he answered it anyway.

"Not unless forced at gunpoint. I would be remiss in my duty as your caretaker if I left you."

"Lanie –"

" – told me she thought you might appreciate the company, she was still uncomfortable with the idea of you being alone just yet, and she knew you'd enjoy a personal chef. Now let me continue nursing you, in your weakened state. Here. You sit." He led her to the couch and settled her down with a virgin daiquiri – no alcohol for a week – as she muttered something along the lines of _weakened state, my ass_. "You look tired. Relax."

She smiled wryly. "You're one hell of a nurse, Castle."

"Damn straight. Now give me your feet." She eyed him suspiciously. "I am just going to give you a footrub to help you relax. There is no ulterior motive. Please?"

"All right. But no funny stuff. And _no_ tickling." She lifted her feet.

"Tickling tomorrow. Tonight, just rubbing." He paused. "I didn't mean that to sound dirty."

She chuckled, settling back into the cushions and closing her eyes. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft, and she let out a long sigh. "God, Castle, that feels so good."

He snorted. "I like you better when you don't filter things."

"Painkillers. It won't last."

He fell silent again, rubbing her feet. As she took another sip of her drink, he spoke up again. "You didn't tell Lanie about the letter, did you?"

"No." She opened her eyes, seeing him watching her.

"She didn't seem to know anything about it when I talked to her."

Kate shook her head. "Alexis is the only one who knows."

He nodded. His hands on her feet slowed, his thumb lightly circling the joint of her ankle. "Beckett, I want you to understand, if you want me to, I will pretend it never happened. We don't have to talk about it. I won't push you."

She bit her lip, watching his fingers trace soft patterns over her skin with the lightest touches, sending tingles through her skin. "You could just let it go like that?"

"If it's what you want, I'll respect it." He swallowed. "I owe you that, at least."

Kate smiled softly. "You don't owe me anything."

Castle sighed. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I really didn't mean to upset you."

"I want to tell you something." He nodded obediently, still rubbing her feet slowly. "It surprised me. I wasn't expecting it. And – it did upset me. To think that you sat there, in so much pain, but you felt like you couldn't say anything. I'm sorry you had to go through that. That's why I was upset."

"That's it? You're not unhappy with me?"

"You thought I'd be angry?"

"Well – I –"

"Castle, it's a beautifully written love letter. Why would that make me angry?"

He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and stopped for a second. "Okay, I'm lost."

"Look, what you wrote was – it was overwhelming." She paused for a moment. "Castle, to be completely honest, and this won't come as much of a surprise to you, I'm attracted to you. I always have been. And it's not that I don't feel the same way you do – exactly – but you're already on step ten, okay? I'm still back around step three or so."

"Step three?"

She rolled her eyes. "Approximately. You know what I mean."

"I do." His warm hands stilled on her feet, holding them gently. "Thank you. I know this has embarrassed you as much as it has me. Thank you for being so gracious."

"You've saved my life more than once, Castle."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he said gently. "You know that."

"Thank you."

He let go of her feet. "I would like to attempt to hug you, if that's alright."

Kate laughed. "You have to ask permission?"

"I didn't want to upset your bandages. Or inspire you to reach for your sidearm."

"I understand." She smiled. "But go ahead."

"You're sure?"

"I promise not to shoot you."

With a beaming smile, he reached for her, pulling her close and folding her tight in an embrace that wrapped all the way around, enveloping her in warmth and softness and the muscles of his broad chest. She nestled her head on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Castle."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Thanks." She stood, giving his hand a squeeze as she left the couch to head to her bedroom.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And tomorrow, apparently, he will ask her to become Queen of Castle…I am PUMPED. Even though I know her instinctive reaction will be all Jigga-_whaaaaat?_ The proper response would be OH GOD YES PLEASE, of course.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Kate woke up sometime during the night to find her throat dry, her head a little sore, and the wound in her chest starting to ache dully. _Time for another pill_. She fumbled, but it was too dark to find anything.

Twisting to turn on her light, she accidentally knocking her hand against her bedpost. "_Ouch._"

As she clicked on the light, her door suddenly flew open and Castle was in the doorway, hair messy, face tense. "Are you okay?"

"Calm down, Florence Nightingale. I just hit my hand."

"Oh." He seemed to deflate a little. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She reached for her water glass, taking in a slight breath at the stretch in her stomach muscles. Still sore. "Sorry to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep."

She eyed him over the rim of her glass. He was still watching her with an intensity she rarely saw from him. The initial tension had left him since he'd discovered she was okay. But he still looked –

"Out with it, Castle."

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me like I'm a ghost. I told you, I'm fine. What's going on?"

"I just –" he twisted his hands – "can I – um, can I sit?"

"Of course." She patted the bed beside her. Castle quickly settled himself beside her, turning to face her in the half-light from the lamp.

"You know, I used to watch Alexis sleep when she was little?" Beckett smiled. That sounded oddly Castle-like. The man worshipped his daughter. "It was so soothing. I know I've always been overprotective, but you know, I just needed to see that she was okay. Even though I knew she was."

"It's okay. You're a dad."

"I know. The first time she rode her bike without training wheels, I ran beside her for almost half a mile. She never fell once, and besides, she had more padding on than a linebacker, but I still think I had a small heart attack."

"My dad did the same thing," Kate laughed. "I still remember Mom. She had to keep telling him to let go of the bike. He didn't want to."

"Yeah." He fell silent for a while. "It's hard to see someone in danger."

"I understand."

"I know you do." He smiled at her, the smile he'd been showing her a lot recently. The genuine Castle smile, where his whole face softened and his eyes crinkled up. The smile that kept her from shooting him most of the time.

As she reached for her pill bottle, she saw Castle's eyes sharpen, scanning her again. "Do you need something?"

She swallowed her pill and set her water back down. "No, I'm just a little sore. It's not too bad."

Kate reached her arms behind her head, stretching gently. But as her comforter fell away from her torso, Castle swallowed hard, his face going a little pale. "Beckett – your stomach –"

She looked down to discover a dark patch in her t-shirt.

"It's okay, Castle. I think the bandage just needs changing. Just calm down, okay?"

He helped her to the bathroom, where she settled on her toilet seat as he pulled out the bandages. She felt the old bandage under her shirt, and sure enough, her fingers came away wet and sticky. The pain wasn't bad, but she was still a little stiff, and when she tried to peel away the bandage, it was stubborn. She could feel her hands shaking a little. She hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to ask.

"Can you help me with these?"

"Sure."

To his credit, Castle was remarkably restrained. She folded back the bottom of her shirt as he carefully peeled off the tape and pulled away the bandage. As it came off, she saw the sudden shock in his eyes. He stared in horror at the still-healing bullet wound, the dark hole surrounded by a small collage of purple, yellow and green bruising in various states of healing. It was fading, but still distinctive, spotted with a thin ooze of dark blood.

Oh, right. She hadn't counted on the fact that he'd actually have to _look_ at it. The poor man looked a little sick.

"Beckett – oh, my God –"

"It's okay. Hey, look at me. It's okay, Castle." She tugged at his hand. "Here. See? It's not as bad as it looks." He sucked in a long breath as she gently placed his hand on the scars. His fingers ghosted over the bruised skin, setting her sensitive flesh tingling, just a whisper away from pain; she held her breath as he cautiously traced the edge of the bullet wound with warm hands, pressing an old towel against it carefully to blot away the blood.

"Does that hurt?"

"No."

"Okay." He held his breath, then paused. "But you'll tell me if it hurts?"

"I'll slap you if it hurts."

"I would appreciate that."

* * *

The wound re-bandaged, Castle was about to help her back down the hallway until she glared at him. So instead, he hovered behind her as she walked by herself, and pulled her covers back so she could climb into back into bed.

"Do you want to stay?"

"Oh, I wasn't going to –"

"As usual, you were _not_ asking very loudly."

He grinned sheepishly. "I do that sometimes."

"Yes, you do. But you can stay."

"Thanks." He smiled. "Besides, I was beginning to feel really creepy having to silently open your door to watch you every few minutes." She shot him a look. "Kidding. _Kidding_."

"You'd better be. I still sleep armed."

"I kind of figured." He paused, half-turning to the door. "You know, maybe it would be better if I just –"

"Castle, come here." Obediently, he came to her bedside. Kate reached toward him, catching his hand. "Come _here_."

"I'm right here." But again, he obediently shuffled closer, letting her tug at his arm to pull him down closer to her level, steadying himself with a hand on the bed. He wasn't even paying attention until suddenly her lips were on his.

It was over before he could register the word _kiss_, her big eyes looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite understand. "That – I – I didn't expect that."

Her lips quirked into a slight smile. "Honestly, Castle, if that doesn't explain, I'm not sure what will."

"Um – " he was still staring at her, wide-eyed – "okay, um – now what?"

"Now I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay." He looked a little confused.

"You're staying right here."

"Okay." That made his eyes brighten, and she saw the beginnings of a smirk. "You try anything, you're sleeping on the floor."

"Acknowledged." He was still smiling, eyes twinkling as he sprang over her to the other side of the bed, pulled back the covers and nestled himself beside her, punching the pillow a few times before settling down.

"Here." She set his hand gently on her stomach, spreading his fingers so it covered most of the bandaged area. "You can be my heating pad."

He chuckled. "Your wish is my command, my lady."

"Thanks." His hand was warm, and she sighed, feeling the soreness slowly dulling. "And can we agree to not mention this to anyone?"

"Again: your wish. My command."

"I need that on recording."

"Don't hold your breath."

She sighed noisily and closed her eyes.

"Detective Beckett?"

"You're in my bed, and you're calling me 'Detective?'"

"Fair enough." A pause. "Your Highness-ness?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've seen _Star Wars_, Castle. What?"

"May I kiss you goodnight?"

Kate opened her eyes, seeing Castle propped up on one elbow, watching her innocently. "You want to kiss me?"

"You did kiss me first."

Her face broke into a smile in spite of herself. "Alright."

"You're sure?"

"Ask again and it'll be 'no.'"

"Understood. Prepare yourself."

"Castle, honestly –"

Before she could finish the thought, he leaned in and whatever she meant to say got lost under his lips.

He let her go, and she took a deep breath. "I –"

He kissed her again, tugging gently at her bottom lip before letting her go again. She tried to feel annoyed, but succeeded only in smiling like an idiot. Richard Castle was a _damn_ good kisser. "You can't just do that to shut me up."

He shrugged, re-settling his hand on her stomach. "I can't stop thy mouth with a kiss?"

"And you can't gratuitously misquote Shakespeare at me."

"Fair enough." He grinned smugly. "At least you recognized it."

She rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Rick."

"Sleep well, Kate." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, but she didn't hear him silently mouth _I love you_ into her hair.

* * *

**Author's Note:** T minus 2 days to TEH KISS. Let me hear you make some noiiiiiiiiiise!


End file.
